


I Was Looking For You

by worldtravellingfly



Series: Fem!Harry [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Babies, F/M, Family, Female Harry, Female Harry Potter, One Night Stands, Relationship Negotiation, Traveling the World instead of Adulting, Unplanned Pregnancy, sister fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-06-30 09:31:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15748956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worldtravellingfly/pseuds/worldtravellingfly
Summary: Harry can't catch a break. Ever. But in the course of the latest drama to wreak her life, she at least gets to see more of the world. One has to count one's blessings after all.





	1. The Oops

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmptySurface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmptySurface/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Let Us Meet Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15744441) by [EmptySurface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmptySurface/pseuds/EmptySurface). 



> So, back in 2016, I visited Empty for a week or so in the summer and we were a bit bored (and on an Ouran kick). So I went: “What if Harry got pregnant by accident with Mori’s baby?” And Empty went: “Sounds cool, but what if it was Kyouya’s baby?”  
> And that’s how we ended up writing sister fics with Fem!harry getting knocked up by a Host Club member. (We have more where these came from.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Oops in Oops Baby.

Dancing couples, colorful, glittering lights. The smell of spilled alcohol, sweating people, and little opportunity for fresh air. Booming music spilling from speakers all around the room.  
And his eyes, gray like storm clouds, yet oddly calm, looking at hers.

Just for the fraction of a second. 

It had been more than enough time to fascinate her drunk self. 

He had loomed over nearly everyone else, taller than her by more than a head. Broad shoulders, accentuated by a white shirt, which in the course of the evening had become more and more unbuttoned. Black slacks, black tie, black hair. 

She had ignored her usual inhibitions and swallowed down what she couldn't ignore. The aftertaste was graciously washed away with a little more Gin and Tonic. 

Then she had dragged him on the dance floor, time after time. 

He had been game, following along. Treating her like a lady, despite both of them having drunk their fair share. 

His chivalry, even when buzzed, had led to her actually testing the waters for a little more. 

He had invited her to his hotel room. 

She had accepted. What else was there to say? 

He was devastatingly handsome. 

She wasn't. And she knew it too. 

Those who knew how she had gotten her scars always treated her like some sort of saint, something they dare not despoil. Or like a sister, if they cared for the person beneath the scars. Those who had no idea how she received her scars did not give her a second glance. 

Usually. 

But this silent, seemingly _shy_ gentleman, he had appeared to see her. 

So off Harry went.  
  
And even two months later, she did not regret what had followed afterward. Even when the consequences were literally life-changing.

  
oooo 

Of course, Hermione and Ron were the first to know. She had come to them with her suspicions. Hermione had even gone to get a few pregnancy tests for her, from the drug store near her parents' house. 

Then held Harry's hand as they waited for the results. 

Ron had reassured her that everything would be well. Whatever happened. They'd always be there to support her. 

After that, they had convened in a sort of unofficial war council. 

"Did you use protection?" Hermione asked methodically, going through a list of questions to prepare her for the obstetrician visit. 

"A condom and the potion."

Emma, Hermione's mother, poured her adopted second daughter another cup of cherry blossom tea. "You are just the exception to prove the rule, dear, aren't you? Now if only I could convince you to play the lottery with me..."

Harry snorted into her tea, while Hermione rolled her eyes. 

Ron smirked. "That's what Mum says too!"

"So, you used protection. Are you sure the condom didn't rip?"

"As sure as I can be."

Hermione sighed. "Well, I suppose that's all I could imagine them asking about that. What do you know about Baby Daddy?"

Harry blushed. "Well..."

“Not a whole lot, I'm guessing?" Dan, Hermione's father, sighed, rubbing his forehead. 

"Unfortunately not. He said I could call him Mori. He has gray eyes, black hair, is definitely Asian, and very considerate. Also, I think he's pretty well-off."

"That's a start, at least," Hermione said, jotting down everything Harry had mentioned.

"Which part of Asia would you say he's from?"

"Japan? He mentioned something about going to school in Tokyo? I think. But I'm not sure."

"What is he doing in London then? Japan is quite a long way to go, even for wizards," Ron wondered aloud, scratching his chin. 

"Well, it could be that he came for business reasons? Maybe wanting to work abroad?" Emma suggested, absentmindedly rubbing Harry's back. "Or he wants to learn to speak better English? Possibly studying here?" 

"I don't think so. He spoke English pretty fluently, with a slight American accent even. And he was far too well-dressed for a university student. It could be that he's from old money or the Japanese equivalent."

That caught Dan's attention. "Why old money?"

Harry's blush deepened. "Well... He must have been raised as a true gentleman. The way he treated me was..." Her voice trailed off, as memories of their one night stand flickered back to life in her mind. 

Ron cleared his throat obnoxiously loudly. "Back with us, Harry?"

“Leave her alone. That boy must have been very good to still evoke those memories," Emma reprimanded her future son-in-law with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

Dan groaned into his hands, burying his head in them. Then he stared at the ceiling, wondering out loud what he had ever done in a previous life to deserve this. 

"Are you going to tell him, dear?" Emma wondered, sparing her husband a new gray hair. 

Harry nodded decisively. "He deserves to know. I mean, I will keep the baby, but for both their sakes, I have to tell him."

"You don't _have_ to," Dan pointed out. 

Only to be met with several questioning looks and a heated glare. 

"Hey," he said, raising his arms in the air, "I am just making sure you know that you have other choices."

"Thank you. But I will tell him. He gets one chance to decide if he wants to be in the baby's life or not. If he chooses to not be involved, I can at least go with a clean conscience."

Emma slung an arm around her second daughter's shoulder, smiling down at her. "And if he's as dishy as you make him sound, well... You can't get more pregnant than you already are."

"MUUM!" and "Emma!" rang out simultaneously. 

Harry had to laugh, against her will.

"So, where do we start looking?" 

"I have no clue," Harry admitted. But she was positively beaming at everyone present.

Dan sighed again, pushing the teapot towards her. "Well, we can at least help with the gynecologist. That's if you don't want to go to a magical doctor?"

"NO! For Merlin's sake! The whole world would know a day later!" Harry's face had lost all its color within seconds. 

Emma glared at her husband, then soothed Harry as best as she could. "It's okay, darling."

Hermione nodded. "I'll look for anything pregnancy-related in the library. I'll also check the owl- order catalogs in case there's differences for magical pregnancies. Ron, you and Harry should probably start looking at spells to locate missing persons, or related information. I don't think we'll go far without a name and just a general description in the Muggle world."

Ron saluted. "Aye aye, ma'am."

Harry tapped her chin. "I think we should try private investigators in addition to the spells. We might find out his full name, but that won't give us any information about his background or address etc. "

Dan nodded approvingly. "I can ask around if anyone trustworthy has recommendations. Some of my old mates from the military might know someone."

Harry hugged everyone tightly. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much. I really appreciate all the trouble you're going through for me."

Emma smiled at her. "No need to thank us, dear. You're family."


	2. Mission: Baby Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds out a bit more about her Baby Daddy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No copyright infringement intended.

-2-

 

* * *

_circa two weeks later_

 

* * *

Harry found herself sitting in a comfortable waiting room, holding Hermione's hand. A plaque next  to them read  _S. Commodore_ _–_ _Investigations_ . Potted plants were crammed on the windowsill,  adding some much needed color to the creamy-white color scheme. 

 

A secretary with an unfortunate perm was typing away on a keyboard, occasionally staring at them  in what she probably thought was a discreet manner. 

 

It wasn't.

 

Two massive art prints hung on the wall opposite from the two witches. Something supposedly modern in black and white. 

 

At least the couch was comfortable, Harry thought, exchanging a look with Hermione. 

 

Her sister from another mister nodded encouragingly, ignoring the sterile environment with  practiced ease. 

 

"Lady Potter-"

 

Harry considered jumping out of the window for just a second, but then reminded herself of her  precious cargo. She'd do it at a later date. 

 

Hermione glowered at the man wearing a pristine suit and designer glasses, who had called them  up. "Mr. Commodore?"

 

"Yes, of course. Please enter and take a seat. Would you prefer some refreshments?" Even his accent was practiced upper-class and came across as arrogant. 

 

Hermione and Harry sat down in ultra-modern chairs in front of a matching desk. 

 

A portrait of the Queen hung behind the massive wooden construct, framed by a variety of diplomas and cut outs from various newspapers depicting Mr. Commodore. 

 

White filing cabinets lined the equally white walls. There was a green rug on the wooden floor, but  no curtains in front of the large windows. 

 

It smelled faintly of cleaning spray. 

 

Harry tore herself out of unpleasant memories of Aunt Petunia's daily cleaning regiment, focusing on the man sitting opposite from her. 

 

"No, thank you. We would like to go straight to business, please," Hermione insisted with a fake smile.

 

She could probably cut glass with the edges of that expression.

 

Harry nodded, hoping to speed up the whole process. She didn't want to stay in this environment  any longer than absolutely necessary. 

 

Mr. Commodore opened a locked cabinet, retrieving a folder. He placed it on the desk, then  carefully seated himself once more. "Why do you wish to know more about Mr. Morinozuka?"

 

"Personal reasons," Harry replied, keeping her tone neutral and bland. She could hardly tell him that she had had a one night stand with the poor guy and was expecting his baby at the moment, could she?

 

"It was not easy to find out more about this man. He seems very well protected. On the other hand,  there is quite a bit of public information readily available if one only knows where to look. You  mentioned only wishing more about his background, not requiring banking information or other,  more personal data, thus I concentrated on providing you with more shallow data."

 

He pushed the file across his desk, then opening it. It contained two copies of a rather thin folder.  "Mr. Morinozuka went to a prestigious school in Tokyo, Japan. He was national Kendo champion,  several times, as well as placing first, second, or third multiple times during Karate tournaments.  Until three months ago, he lived with his parents and younger brother."

 

"What happened three months ago?" Harry wondered. 

 

"He moved to London, following his successful graduation from business and law school. He lived  in the United States of America for a time, but returned to finish his studies in Japan. According to  several announcements I found, his family is quite well-connected and presumably belongs to the  upper-class."

 

Hermione flipped through the sheets in the folder at almost lightning speed. 

 

Harry trusted her to note anything which seemed strange. 

 

"What is his current occupation?"

 

"He works for a Japanese business firm. We are not quite sure what they do, but they seem to be  specialized in security."

 

"And where does he currently live?"

 

"Near Hyde Park, the exact address is on the first page. I trust this is all satisfactory to you?"

 

Harry considered the paper in her hands. She hadn't even opened the file. So she sent a quick look at  her best friend. 

 

Hermione nodded discreetly.

 

"Everything seems to be in order. Thank you for your swift and conscientious service, Mr. Commodore."

 

They shook hands, although Mr. Commodore appeared to wish to bow, of all possible things, to Harry.

 

He then guided them to the waiting room which doubled as a sort of lobby, wishing them "safe travels".

 

Harry swore to herself to never, ever return to this obsequious snob.

 

Once they finally stepped back onto the streets outside, she finally opened the paper file.  Her eyes were drawn to the first picture, lying on top of the information package. 

 

It was _him_. Definitely.

 

She'd recognize those eyes anywhere. 

 

Hermione nudged her gently. "Okay?"

 

"Okay," Harry replied, taking a deep, calming breath. "Let's do this."

 

oooo 

 

They regrouped in the Granger's living room. Harry and Hermione were cradling a cup of warm chocolate, waiting for the others to come home. 

 

Harry had nearly buried herself into her friend's side, like a cat looking for a cuddle session.

 

Hermione had an arm slung across her shoulders, one hand absentmindedly playing with a strand of black hair. She was reading, predictably. 

 

Their cozy calm was disrupted when Ron Apparated to the back door, in view of the living room windows. 

 

"How did it go?"

 

"We have a name and a face," Harry replied, slowly making space for Ron on the couch.

 

He squeezed his lanky frame onto the two seater, but then settled her feet onto his lap.

 

"And an address."

 

"Good. That's good. Right?"

 

"Yeah..." Harry agreed. 

 

"What's that face for, mate?" Ron began to massage her feet. "You can still change your mind."

 

She scrunched up her nose, shaking her head lightly. While also trying not to dislodge Hermione's book.

 

"I guess...I'm just nervous. What if he doesn't even remember me? Or doesn't want to even see me? I mean, he doesn't know me. Who I am. We're basically strangers. Why should he trust me?"

 

Ron tugged on her feet, gently. "I hate to tell you this mate, but you're pretty much the exact opposite of forgettable. What's the worst that could happen when you talk to him?"

 

Harry avoided his eyes, fiddling with a loose strand on Fifth Year's Christmas sweater. 

 

"The absolute worst case scenario?"

 

"Maybe throwing me out of his apartment once he hears what I have to say? Or not believing me? Or, or just not even allowing me to see him? To tell him?"

 

"Well, you still have us, the Grangers, all the Weasleys, and most of the DA to help raise your little imp. If that dunderhead can't appreciate you or the baby - that's his problem. Not yours."

 

Harry gave Ron a hug to the best of her ability, considering their rather precarious position. 

 

"Thank you."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I couldn't find my doc (a sign that I clearly have too many WIPs) and RL was hitting me over the head. With a bat. Hope you enjoy regardless of that.


	3. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets Mori. Things don't go as she expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No copyright infringement intended.

_ Chapter T _ _ hree _ _ : _

 

_circa ten weeks pregnant_

 

Harry paid the cab driver, then got out of the car. She watched as the cab drove off, followed by examining her environment. Expensive brick houses lined both sides of the street. Some were red, others sand-colored.

 

From her position, Harry had free view of the trees planted along the border to Hyde Park. The cab driver had pointed out the bus station and entrance when they had driven down Piccadilly.

 

Then she turned around, staring at the only white house in this section of the street. (Of  _course_ it had to be the most opulent one, at least in Harry's opinion.) It was several stories high, with a dark roof, and a lacquered, black door. Black marble tiles paved the way up to the entrance, with a golden knocker taking center stage.

 

Harry spent a few moments admiring the flowers in the pots mounted on the railing leading to the door.

 

Then she took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and straightened up. She had nothing to be ashamed of, after all.

 

Raising her hand to the knocker, she swallowed the last of her nerves and used it to announce her presence.

 

A moment later, the door opened.

 

Startled gray eyes met green.

 

"Hi."

 

"Hello."

 

Harry fidgeted with her jacket, trying to keep calm. His sheer presence didn't help her nerves. "Can I come in? Or do you have somewhere else to be?"

 

In reply, the tall man stepped aside, silently inviting her into his home.

 

Harry thanked him, uncomfortable with the further display of wealth meeting her curious gaze. However, she barely registered the chandelier, or the art on the walls.

 

She wasn't here for a tour.

 

"Harry?" An all too-familiar voice brought her back to earth.

 

"You remember me? Good." She straightened her jacket once again, brushing imaginary lint off of the seams. That he recalled her name would help to ease things along, Harry told herself, completely ignoring the warm sensation in her belly.

 

Mori examined her from her head to her toes, but eventually nodded. "Yes."

 

"Well, now that I've finally found you, we need to talk," Harry told him, meeting his gaze head on.

 

"Hn." Mori nodded once, then gestured her to the lift.

 

Harry was not going to freak out about there even being one available in a private home.

 

He pressed the button for the first floor, but his eyes were fixed on his guest.

 

The lift came to a stop quicker than Harry wanted.

 

Mori led her through what seemed to be a study, then along a beautiful staircase, toward a living room area.

 

Light flooded the room, streaming inside from a large bay window. A white, marble fireplace gleamed from its spot between two large, off-white couches. Dark, wooden planks and Persian carpets added some contrast to the light furniture.

 

Harry took it all in with an experienced eye and then dismissed it immediately.

 

"Sit?"

 

She took a seat opposite from Mori, watching him for a moment. "Here's the deal. I have something important to tell you, but I'm not sure how you'll react to what I've come to say." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, biting her lip.

 

Mori nodded, but didn't add anything to the conversation.

 

"So... here goes. I'm pregnant."

 

His reaction was... to blink. Slowly.

 

Harry couldn't read his expression, although she focused on his face. (Many of the Death Eaters she had helped to capture had complained about it before. No one liked being the focal point of the Witch Who Won, especially not when she was feeling tense or serious.)

 

As the silence dragged on, Harry hugged her shoulders, comforting herself as best as she could.

 

"I know this is...sudden and rather unexpected, but the  _moment_ I found out, I tried to find you. I swear. It wasn't exactly easy to figure out your name and all that. I'm so sorry to disturb you..."

 

Words kept falling out of her mouth like some sort of dam had burst, now that she had spilled her secret.

 

"I want to keep it. The baby, I mean. It's mine. I won't force you to be a part of his or her life, I promise. But you deserved to know."

 

Abruptly, Harry's rant cut off. She swallowed once, twice.

 

A short, yet seemingly eternal, bout of silence followed.

 

Eventually, Harry began to fidget. She wasn't sure what to do with herself.

 

But then she caught Mori's gaze, which was fixed on what of her white jumper could be seen thanks to her open coat.

 

Hesitating slightly, Harry slowly peeled herself out of her coat. Then she pulled off the light-blue scarf (a completely unnecessary accessory, which Hermione had insisted on), placing both on the couch next to her.

 

She met his eyes, seeing the curiosity and need in them, and decided.

 

Harry rolled up the bottom of her jumper, carefully exposing the tiny baby bump she had developed over the last few weeks.

 

Really, it was nothing compared to what Fleur was sporting, but she felt strangely protective of the bump.

 

His hand twitched, but he kept it to himself.

 

Mori looked her straight into the eyes, a question gleaming in his own.

 

She considered it for a moment, but eventually nodded, motioning him to come near.

 

He stood, softly walking closer.

 

Harry followed suit, holding her jumper up and out of the way.

 

His hand stretched out, shaking a little, unable to wait until he had reached her completely. Light, gentle fingers traced her pale skin.

 

She smiled to herself, remembering the same gentleness from their night together.

 

Then, he had also been afraid of hurting her accidentally, of breaking her without meaning to.

 

Until she had set him straight.

 

When he spoke, Harry seemed to wake from a trance. "Would you like to go on a trip with me?"

 

Startled, she stared at him, wondering what his motives where.

 

But the gray eyes were clear, free of malice and greed. To the contrary, they shone with gentleness.

 

Harry weighed all the pros and cons she could think of. Hermione would snap. So would Dan. Emma would support her if she were to say yes. Ron would as well. The Weasleys still didn't know about the baby, so they'd probably freak out. Collectively.

But Harry knew that everyone would eventually come to support her, no matter what she chose.

 

Then there was the press. Unfortunately, because she had begun to show relatively early, they would smell the bun in her oven long before she wanted them to. And once they had an inkling, they wouldn't let it go. She'd not have a single moment of calm until at least the birth.

 

Probably not even then.

 

"Could you repeat that please?"

 

"Would you like to go on a trip with me?" His voice sounded gentle, a bit tentative, but he was not hesitating.

 

Harry continued to stare at him, wondering and weighing whatever she found in his eyes. "So I heard you right."

She straightened up, loosening her crossed arms, and held his gaze. "Why? Why do you want to go on a trip with me?"

 

Mori, moving slowly and with more care than he thought himself capable of, grasped one of her hands in his much larger ones.

 

"We don't even know each other," Harry pointed out.

 

After a long pause, he finally replied: "I know. But I'd like to change that. To be honest, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

 

Harry stared at him with mounting disbelief. She had just told this, admittedly very handsome, man that he  _would_ be a father, whether he wanted to or not, and did he care? No, it appeared he didn't. 

 

"You want to get to know me?"

 

He nodded, one of his fingers absentmindedly stroking her belly. (It was admittedly a bit distracting.)

 

"While we're traveling? Together?"

 

"Yes."

 

Mori didn't even hesitate.

 

"What if - if I'm a, a murderer? What if I kill you?"

 

Harry tried very hard to not think about the people she had killed, either by her own hand or through her actions. Technically, she was a murderer. No matter what her friends said, she still felt guilty.

 

"Come away with me. If you give us a chance, we could fall in love."

 

She snorted. "You realize that line only ever works in movies, right? I could be a horrible, terrible person."

 

He frowned at her. "No."

 

Why did he sound so annoyingly sure? No hesitation, only openly displayed trust.

 

Harry didn't know what she'd done to earn it.

 

Mori took a deep breath, audible due to their closeness. His eyes were boring into hers. Unflinching, steady. "I'm halfway in love with you already."

 

She spluttered, unsure how to react. "It was  _one_ night!" Harry stared at this handsome stranger. "You  _can't_ be in love with me."

 

He just shrugged, a little helpless. "Love is strange."

 

It took a while to compose herself, but Harry managed somehow. Who was she to tell someone what they were supposed to feel? Or not to feel, as the case may be? "So, you want to be in the baby's life?"

 

"I want," Mori paused to gently squeeze her hand, "to be in  _both_ of your lives. Please."

 

Harry, quite honestly, wasn't sure what to think. She didn't know him. Not truly.

 

Mori's other hand raised and cupped her cheek.

 

The tenderness in that single motion caused a tear to spill over, which Harry hastily wiped away. Damn hormones.

 

"Okay. You have  _one_ chance to convince me," she blurted out before she could stop to think about a response to that gentle care he had shown her. Again. 

 

Obviously, he had not been lying when he'd told her he'd been half in love with her already.

 

If she was honest with herself, Harry didn't know how to deal with his tenderness. No one had ever looked at her like that before. Or touched her with such reverence and care. As if - as if she was some sort of cherished, priceless artifact. Something to be sheltered, but not  _fragile_ . 

 

"What did you have in mind?"

 

Harry wiped another stubborn tear from her face, but allowed Mori to embrace her gently. It was loose enough that she could break away at any moment.

 

Instead, she leaned her forehead against the crisp, white shirt he was wearing, closing her eyes, and breathing in his scent.

 

He smelled a bit like he had that night, although it was more restrained. Like he wore a cloak to cover up his real self. Perhaps he had reason to protect himself too?

 

Harry liked the unusual, yet unobtrusive combination of sandalwood, expensive cologne, and some sort of metal polish she didn't recognize.

 

It felt strangely comforting.

 

With a heavy sigh, Harry curled her fingers around Mori's properly, braiding their hands together. "Okay."

 

Hermione would probably kill her, but Harry didn't care.

 

And the way things looked right then, Hermione would have to go through Mori. Who looked far more intimidating than he actually was, not that her best friend knew that.

 

If she were honest, Harry needed a break from everything. Mostly Magical Britain, but also the constant care and supervision of her friends who still hadn't gotten over seeing her supposed body lying still in Hagrid's arms.

 

"Okay, let's do this. Where to first?"

 

Mori's lips twitched upwards in a minuscule smile. "Why don't you choose? Where to you want to go?"

 

Harry sighed, relaxing more fully into his embrace. "Anywhere. Just...take me away."

 

"Okay."

 

No protest, no further questions. Only a simple acknowledgement.

 

When Harry didn't pull away from him - and she didn't have any intentions to do so in the near future - Mori tightened his hold on her, maneuvering them until he had her seated in his lap on the closest couch. She leaned her head against his shoulder, content with simply breathing in his calming scent.

 

Harry felt so, so tired all of a sudden.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

She looked up at him from her position, not having enough energy or the will to move. With a shaky laugh she asked: "What are you apologizing for?"

 

Right in that moment, she could barely believe that she was actually sitting in someone's lap. Nor that  _this_ was his reaction to her news.

 

Harry had expected perhaps a polite dismissal. Or demands for a paternity test. Certainly not this tender, gentle care Mori treated her with.

 

When had she ever had gotten lucky (aside from that night almost three months ago)? In all honesty, she would not be overly surprised if he turned out to be the murderer between them.

 

Harry Potter never had this much luck.

 

Then again, she hoped that he wasn't, if only for the baby's sake. He or she deserved to know their father. Not that they wouldn't be loved regardless.

 

She tilted her head slightly, trying to figure out his feelings through watching his expression.

 

Mori's gaze was studiously avoiding hers, focused on some indecipherable spot on the immaculate wall. His lips settled into a neutral expression, hiding more clues from her.

 

In reply to her question, he simply shrugged. No verbal response seemed to be forthcoming.

 

But Harry swallowed her insecurities, firming up her courage and nodded against his body. "Okay." She took a deep breath. "Okay. But I've never been anywhere before."

 

"Do you want to go home to pack? Or we can just get the things we need once we get there," Mori suggested, rubbing her back in soothing circles.

 

Harry snorted as she imagined the reactions of her friends should she just up and leave without a word. "I will have to let some people know where I am, or they'll raise hell looking for me."

 

He didn't try to change her mind, calmly accepting it. "I require a few days to finish up some business and take leave from work officially."

 

She smiled at him, wondering if he would have to quit his job entirely. "Are you sure that you can just...leave?"

 

"Yes. No worries. You can too."

 

Harry furrowed her brows at him, then raised one eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

 

"If you change your mind, at any time, I promise I will not hold it against you. After all, I am taking you away from your family and that must be hard, especially now. If you rather stay here, then that is what we shall do."

 

If she wasn't already ridiculously attracted to this guy, she'd certainly be done for now. "Could you be ready to fly to Zürich in two days?"

 

Mori nodded, his eyes watching her carefully. One side of his mouth was ticked upwards.

 

Harry felt his hands resume their rubbing of her back. "Alright. Let's meet back here in two days, at nine? In the morning?"

 

"Sure?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Okay."

 

Harry reluctantly disentangled her limbs from his, knowing she had interrupted his day, probably even turning it on its head. Hopefully, he hadn't missed anything important while listening to her ramble on.

 

"Wait," he asked before she could move towards the lift on her own.

 

Mori returned a short moment later with a business card, on which his name, London address, and several phone numbers were printed. He scribbled another number on the back of the card while she was watching.

 

"Private number."

 

Harry beamed at him. Why had she been so afraid of his rejection again? "Thank you."

 

"Call me. Please?"

 

Unable to resist, Harry hugged him once again, then fled to the safety of the lift. She knew the way out.

 

Her cheeks burned bright red for a full fifteen minutes. After leaving his completely ostentatious house.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some cavity-inducing goodies: Harry calls, The Weasley Revelation, and Tho(ug)hts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No copyright infringement intended.

_ Chapter  _ _ Four _ _ : _

 

Harry took another cab to Grimmauld Place. (Hermione had forbidden her from Apparating anytime soon.) She was looking outside of the window, smiling to herself as she recalled the rather surprising turn the meeting had taken.

 

"Miss? Miss!"

 

Harry startled, one hand grabbing her wand, the other cradling her belly.

 

Only to meet the impatient eyes of the cab driver.

 

"Sorry. How much do I owe you?"

 

She paid, then got out of the car.

 

Harry walked the short distance to Number Twelve, having told the driver to drop her off near Number Ten.

 

A short walk might help to clear her mind a bit, to prepare herself for talking to the others.

 

Harry greeted Kreacher with a small smile, allowing him to take her coat, scarf, and bag.

 

Hermione and Ron had evidently heard her coming in, so she wasn't surprised at them showing up right after Kreacher  _popped_ off. 

 

"So, how did it go?" Hermione asked, sounding strangely solemn.

 

Harry hugged both of her friends at the same time. She beamed at them, unable to help herself.

 

"Doesn't look too bad to me," Ron muttered, grinning at both witches.

 

"He remembered my name!" Harry floated into the living room (which used to be a drawing room). "And he wants to try!"

 

"Try what exactly?"

 

"Well, he wants to be in the baby's life, but he also wants us to get to know each other better."

 

"Sounds great. Congratulations," Hermione hugged her friend gently.

 

Ron frowned. "How does he plan to get to know you better? Dates? Courting you?"

 

"Well..." Harry opened and closed her mouth a few times, squirming in her seat. "Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom."

 

Once she was back, Kreacher served tea and freshly baked scones, which were still warm.

 

"So...?"

 

Harry sighed, shrugging at their intense looks. "He asked me whether I wanted to go on a trip with him."

 

Ron's frown deepened, while Hermione stood and began pacing.

 

"What did you say?"

 

"I said yes."

 

"When do you plan to leave and for how long?"

 

"Not sure yet, but we'll leave in two days. He gave me his business card and private number and said I could always change my mind."

 

"Do you want to tell everyone before you leave?"

 

"Well, I could always come back, obviously pregnant, for Teddy's birthday..." It actually sounded very tempting, if only for a moment.

 

Harry rolled her eyes at Ron's glare. "No, I'm not going to do that. Besides, don't you think your mum already suspects that something's wrong? She's like a niffler which has caught sight of a golden shimmer and can't stop digging until she figures out what is going on. Remember the weeks before Fleur and Bill's wedding?"

 

Ron shrugged. "True, I guess. Just don't say that to her face. Or anywhere close to where she could overhear."

 

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes. "Honestly..."

 

"So, what's your plan, mate?"

 

Harry snuggled into Ron's side, sighing. She tucked her feet under herself, wondering if she actually had a plan.

 

"Please don't tell me that you're going to wing it. Please, Harry!"

 

"Oh, stuff it, Hermione," the raven-haired witch retorted. "I suppose, I just want to see where this goes. He's...gentle. So afraid to hurt me. But what if I hurt  _him_ ?"

 

Hermione squeezed herself in next to Ron and Harry, completing their three-way hug. "Oh, dear. I don't think you could hurt him if you'd tried."

 

"And when has Hermione ever been wrong? Besides, this bloke still remembered you, right? Your talk must have gone well if he invited you into his space, into his home. And he made sure you could contact him again."

 

Harry snorted, but enjoyed the hug. "Thanks, guys."

 

"What would you ever do without us?"

 

They looked at each other for a long moment, before breaking out into laughter.

 

oooo

 

The next day, they prepared everything for The Weasley Revelation.

 

Admittedly, Harry had been avoiding them for the last few weeks, ever since she'd found out about her little passenger. Hopefully, they would understand.

 

Hermione groaned as Emma packed her camera into their bags. "Is that really necessary, Mum?"

 

"Yes," the dentist confirmed with a mischievous grin.

 

Harry smirked behind her tea cup, having been ordered to "sit and drink" as soon as they'd come through the door.

 

Dan gave her a tight hug, whispering: "Good luck. I hope everything will work out for you and your baby daddy."

 

She blushed a light pink, but returned the hug happily. "Thanks, Dan."

 

"Just...keep in touch?"

 

Harry nodded, promising to check in with them regularly while she was gone.

 

"Ready to go, Harry?" Hermione interrupted, apparently having given up on reasoning with her mum.

 

"I just have to go to the bathroom, sorry. Give me five minutes."

 

After Harry returned, they drove down to Devon in Emma's borrowed car. Hermione was a secure, if at times slightly erratic driver, so they made good time.

 

The gentle rocking motions of the car, once they had reached the motorway, lulled Harry into a sleepy doze. Which turned into a nap once the steady splatter of rain drops hit the windows.

 

Gentle shaking of her shoulder woke Harry from her slumber. "Wha'?"

 

Hermione snorted at her, eyes warm. "Come on, sleepyhead. We've arrived."

 

"Oh, already?"

 

"You've been sleeping for two hours, Harry." Despite the fond exasperation, Hermione sounded mildly worried.

 

Grumbling under her breath, Harry forced herself to leave the cozy, warm car. She huddled into her rain coat, muttering curses against the weather gods all the way to the Weasleys' door.

 

Molly opened it, waiting only long enough for Harry to divest herself of her jacket to pull her into one of her hugs.

 

The mouth-watering smell of cinnamon rolls, spices, and cake hit her in the face, metaphorically speaking. Followed by the distant chatter of a small crowd, only disrupted by bouts of laughter. Faint music was playing from somewhere too, likely the battered radio in the kitchen.

 

"Hi, Molly," Harry grinned into the woman's cardigan, breathing in the familiar scent of freshly-baked cinnamon rolls, burning wood, and the homemade soap Molly used for the laundry.

 

"Harry, dear, how have you been? We haven't seen you in weeks."

 

"I'm fine, thanks. How are you?"

 

"Better now that you are all back home."

 

She hid her guilty feelings by giving Molly another hug.

 

"Come, come, the food is ready."

 

Harry nodded, then went into the kitchen.

 

Ron noticed her first, probably because Molly accosted Hermione next. He stood from the packed kitchen table to greet her with a careful hug. "How are you, mate?"

 

"Fine. And you?"

 

He just nodded, tucking her under his arm.

 

Bill was in a similar position with a very noticeably pregnant Fleur, who seemed to glow even more than usual. (Which was just unfair, Harry thought for a second. Then she banished the jealousy back to the darkest confines of her mind.)

 

Charlie, on leave from the dragon reserve in Romania, sat next to Mr. Weasley (Arthur, Harry corrected herself mentally), gesturing wildly with his hands while telling him something.

 

George had retreated to the outskirts of the usual Weasley madness, almost hiding behind Ginny.

 

Ginny was unobtrusively shoving cinnamon rolls over to her brother, winking at Harry when she noticed her gaze.

 

Percy was sipping his tea, apparently listening to Charlie's story with half an ear, while watching his new girlfriend from the corner of his eye.

 

Said girlfriend leaned against him, smiling at nothing in particular.

 

Harry felt the tension melt out of her in the warmth of her adopted family.

 

Ron led her over to his former spot on the other side of Ginny, pushing Harry into a free seat. Then he gave her a clean plate, the cinnamon rolls she had been eyeing, and poured her a cup of tea.

 

"Thanks, Ron," Harry murmured before carefully taking a sip of the warm beverage.

 

"Is something wrong?" Ginny whispered, brows furrowed. She was openly staring at her youngest brother.

 

George, who seemed to have heard the quiet words, leaned forward, watching the two best friends as well.

 

"No?" Harry replied softly, managing to keep Ron quiet for the moment. "Why would you think that?"

 

"Well... Ron never voluntarily shares food. With anyone. Unless we're feeling sick."

 

Harry sighed. "I promise, I'm fine."

 

Ginny examined her for an indeterminable moment, but eventually she nodded. "If you say so, I'll believe it. What's up? You done avoiding us?"

 

Ron's ears began to glow an ominous shade of pink-orange.

 

Harry quickly intervened, hoping to avoid a sibling fight. At least for just a little while longer. "I wasn't avoiding you. I was just...busy, very busy."

 

"With what?" George rasped, ignoring his sister's pointed look.

 

"I'd rather only tell this once, so let's wait until after the food is eaten?" Harry suggested quickly, evading for hopefully the last time that afternoon.

 

Hermione fell into the open spot next to Ron, cutting off the rest of the mutiny before it could begin properly. "These cinnamon rolls are to die for," she moaned, swallowing her first bite.

 

In reply to such praise, Molly glowed. "Thank you, dear. Have another one."

 

Once everyone was officially stuffed, and Harry had finished her fourth run to the bathroom, a cozy silence reigned in the room.

 

Figuring that everyone would be too full to go on a rampage at this point, Harry coughed awkwardly.

 

"What is it, Harry dear?" Molly asked, leaning forward and reaching out a hand as if to check her temperature.

 

"Well... I don't really know how to tell you this, but  _I'mpregnant_ ?"

 

There was a bout of silence.

 

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved.

 

Harry had managed to achieve complete stillness in the Burrow, probably a first.

 

In movies, crickets would be chirping at this point.

 

"Could you repeat that please, dear? We couldn't understand the last bit."

 

Harry swallowed, fidgeting with her hands. "I am pregnant and --"

 

Pandemonium reigned supreme. Questions were shouted at her from all sides. Who was he? Why hadn't she told them that she'd met someone? How long had they been together? Why wasn't he there, with her? Did they have to hurt him? And so on.

 

She waited five minutes for them to calm down a bit.

 

All the while, Hermione squeezed her hand under the table, smiling encouragingly at her best friend.

 

Ron was trying to be subtle while pushing a refilled teacup over to Harry.

 

Who gratefully accepted the beverage, thanking him softly.

 

Once everyone seemed to have gotten the worst out of their system, Harry continued to explain. "We met about three months ago and the pregnancy was an accident. After I found out, we tried to figure out where he lived, so I could tell him..."

 

After she had finished, her throat felt parched.

 

Ron helpfully poured her another cup of tea, adding a hint of honey to help with the scratchiness.

 

The loud screech of Molly's chair being pushed back seemed to wake the rest of them from their surprise.

 

Before Harry knew it, she was hugged tightly from all sides.

 

Even Charlie gave her an awkward if brotherly embrace.

 

"So, what's going to happen now?" Ginny wondered, eyebrows raised. She was twirling her wand absently in one hand, not noticing that she changed George's hair to pink with orange polka dots as she was doing so.

 

(George didn't seem to mind.)

 

Harry shrugged, squirming in her seat, and avoiding to look straight at anyone. "I've talked to the father and we decided to try and get to know each other better. He's..."

 

"Absolutely perfect, should one believe Harry," Ron muttered, lips quirked into a teasing grin.

 

Hermione rolled her eyes, subtly smacking her boyfriend on the neck.

 

Meanwhile Harry could feel her cheeks burn.

 

Fleur winked at her over the table, beaming. "Then we shall hope for the best,  n'est ce pas?"

 

"We're going to Zurich the day after tomorrow. I have to update my will with the Dwarves anyway, so..." Harry shrugged, tracing the pattern in the wooden table top.

 

Molly smiled at her. "Good luck, dear. Do you know when you expect to be back?"

 

"That depends on how well we get along together, but at the latest for Teddy's birthday."

 

Hermione smiled. "Maybe you could stay until Fleur delivers her baby?"

 

Ron nodded in support of his girlfriend's question. "And perhaps introduce him to us, eh, mate?"

 

"If all turns out well, I will ask him. Promise," Harry assured everyone. She desperately hoped it would. Turn out well that is.

 

oooo

 

Hermione drove them back to the Granger's home, but Harry didn't notice much during the drive. She fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the backrest.

 

"Harry, come on, wake up," someone said, while shaking her shoulder. Gently.

 

In return, Harry grumbled, unhappy about leaving her dream. "Wha'?"

 

"We're home."

 

"'Kay."

 

Hermione waited patiently as her friend peeled herself out of the seat. "Are you feeling alright?"

 

Harry hummed an affirmation, but kept quiet.

 

They greeted the Drs. Granger, who wished them a good night.

 

Harry moved mechanically to "her" designated room, the one she had used since the first night she had spent at their house.

 

While brushing her teeth, she remembered, blearily, that she had promised to call Mori. Her eyes flew to the small radio clock sitting on the window sill, checking the time.

 

It was passed ten, in the evening.

 

"He's probably not going to be awake any longer," she muttered through toothpaste and -brush. "I shouldn't wake him if he's gone to bed already... but maybe he's waiting for me to call...?"

 

Harry continued to brush her teeth and fiercely debated with herself.

 

All tiredness had fled her body, heart beating faster.

 

Dressed in her nightshirt and a fluffy, warm robe, Harry sneaked passed Hermione's room, back downstairs.

 

She was biting her lips, fidgeting in her spot by the door.

 

Emma noticed her first, smiling warmly at her second daughter. "Come in, dear. What's keeping you awake?"

 

"He said I should call him..."

 

Emma tugged her down on the couch, between Dan and herself, slipping an arm around Harry's shoulder. "Do you want to?"

 

"Yes," she said, without any hesitation. "I did promise..."

 

"So, what's keeping you?" Dan wondered, slipping his other arm around her.

 

"It's late. What if he's sleeping and I wake him up?"

 

Emma pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead. "I think he will just be happy to hear from you. No matter if he's already asleep or not."

 

Dan nodded in support of his wife.

 

Harry blushed, but muttered her thanks.

 

"Why don't you use the phone in the kitchen, sweetheart?" Emma suggested with a twinkle in her eyes. "I remember how annoyed I was whenever my mum tried to listen in on my calls."

 

The blush darkened, but Harry smiled at Emma. "Thanks."

 

Harry fidgeted with the card in the pocket of her robe, staring at the wall-mounted phone as if it had personally threatened her with instant death. She bit her lip, wondering what to do. To say.

 

Deciding to make herself a cup of tea first, which she would likely regret in five minutes or less, Harry filled the electric kettle with water. Then she got out a mug with a large, shiny tooth printed on the front, as well as grabbing her favorite blend.

 

Once the water boiled, she poured it into the mug, watching the steam rise from her seat at the table.

 

This phone call was harder than taking on the Hungarian Horntail had been, she thought absently. Really, what had she been thinking?

 

Ron's words from half an eternity ago came back to mind. What was the worst he could do? Not answer? Grumble at her for waking him?

 

Harry decided she'd take the risk. Then she swallowed heavily, gathering her Gryffindor courage.

 

As her fingers dialed the number on the back, she only hoped he wouldn't be too upset about the hour. (Which implied she'd actually forgotten to call him earlier...)

 

Three tones beeped into her ear as the number was dialed.

 

Harry stopped breathing until he answered.

 

"Moshi Moshi?" A masculine voice rasped at the other end.

 

Harry bit her lip, wondering what that meant in English. Was it Japanese? "Um... hi? It's Harry. Sorry if I'm disturbing you. Am I? Disturbing you? Is this a bad time?"

 

Before she could continue rambling, Mori answered her: "How are you? Is everything alright? Please don't worry, I'm happy you called."

 

He sounded genuinely worried, Harry thought. "I'm fine. Hermione, one of my best friends, and I visited my other best friend's family in Devon today and we just got back home."

 

"Oh. Was it a good visit?"

 

"Yes, they're like family to us. Basically adopted me as soon as we met properly. I...told them. About the baby and the trip."

 

Harry continued to describe her day, with the occasional question from Mori.

 

"So, what have you been up to?"

 

Mori sighed. "I handed in my request for vacation time and talked to my cousin about us."

 

She bit her lip. "Did it go well?"

 

"Yes. He will keep an eye out for anything I have to solve personally, but I can bribe him with sweets."

 

Harry laughed. "That must come in handy."

 

"Yes. He is my favorite cousin, Hani."

 

"What is he like?"

 

"Hm... My exact opposite."

 

Harry tried to imagine what the exact opposite of Mori was like. The picture of a tiny male with blonde hair and dark eyes flashed in her mind. "And you get along well?"

 

"Yes. We are best friends. Went to school together. Shared classes at university too. He's in London as well."

 

She lost herself in their conversation, smiling as she tried to imagine what Mori's family life had been like.

 

Only the no longer ignorable pressure on her bladder could end their call.

 

Harry was squirming in her chair, suppressing a yawn.

 

Mori seemed to sense that her mood had changed. "Good night, Harry. Thank you for calling. I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow at nine."

 

Thanking all the deities known to her, Harry gave a silent sigh of relief. "Good night, Mori."

 

As soon as the phone was back in its place, she  _sprinted_ to the bathroom. 

 

Yeah, she regretted drinking that tea.

 

Then Harry's eyes fell on the radio clock again. It was passed midnight, much to her shock. Where the heck had the time gone?

 

She could not have been talking to Mori for almost two hours, could she?

 

Emma smiled at Harry on her way to the bathroom when Harry returned to her bedroom. "Did you have a nice talk?"

 

"Yeah. Thanks for...well, everything."

 

Emma just gave her another hug. "Good luck, darling."

 

"Thanks, Emma."

 

"You're welcome, Harry."

 

Harry fell asleep with a smile on her face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, but. Shit Happened. Spring Break is over and RL begins once more. So, probably will be a ...while until I can update again.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> No copyright infringement intended. Hope you enjoyed!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Let Us Meet Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15744441) by [EmptySurface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmptySurface/pseuds/EmptySurface)




End file.
